January 3, 2009 - The Accident

“Stefan, Stefan” I cried out as I approached his body, my mind trying to comprehend what had occurred. In the snow below lay my partner who had fallen during his descent of the Polish Direct route. This shouldn’t have happened. Death in the mountains was something we read about in books and magazines not something we expect to experience. In the days preceding the accident circumstances had conspired to place us in a position where we could climb the route together but never did such an outcome ever occur to me. As I continued my descent I again called out to him but no reply ever came. When I finally reached my new friend he was gone. There was nothing I could do but sit beside him and mourn his loss.

December 23-25, 2008 – Trekking in to Plaza Argentina

I first met Stefan Jeromin, a 42 year old architect from Köln, Germany, at Pampa de Lenas during our trek in to Plaza Argentina. Stefan was climbing solo and was making his second attempt on the mountain after poor weather turned him back at Camp 2 the previous year. For me it was my third time on the mountain and the second time leading a large, 10-member private expedition. I had already made the summit in 2006 via the False Polish Traverse and was back with a friend to attempt the Polish Direct, a route I have always wanted to ascend. The first thing I noticed about Stefan was his gregarious, outgoing personality that allowed him to befriend every climber he met along the way. There were several other private groups in the valley along with us and we got to know each other during the three day trek in to base camp. There were the big backpack boys, Tyler, Tyson and John carrying impressive 90+ pound packs, young Dan and Dalton with an ambitious climbing schedule where they would move from Base Camp to Camp 2 in only two days and Frank, a fellow countryman of Stefan’s, with whom he would often converse with in German. We were all excited about the upcoming climb and looking forward to sharing our adventure with one another.

December 25-26, 2008 – Plaza Argentina (13,780 feet)

When we arrived at Plaza Argentina I immediately headed for the Daniel Lopez Expedition mess tent. On my previous climbs, Daniel’s tent was the place to go to buy good food, beer and sit around chatting with climbers from all over the world. When I entered the tent I was glad to see Stefan sitting there as he had contracted Daniel’s firm to his supply his mules and food services. Over the next several days we would often sit together eating meals and chatting about the mountain. Like me he was very interested in attempting the Polish Direct route and we both shared a particular interest in the history of the North Face of the Eiger which we would often discuss. Also in the tent that afternoon were fellow Canadians Jim Ongena and his climbing partner Shawn. Jim introduced me to several friends of both his and Daniel Lopez who were there, Argentineans Daniel Placci and his friend Dioni who would later go out of their way to assist me after the accident.

December 27-29, 2008 – Moving to Camp 1 (16,500 feet)

Over the next several days our group began to ascend the mountain. The first day we hiked up to 15,000 feet to aid in the acclimatization process. On the second we carried loads up to Camp 1 and returned to base camp to sleep. The third day we moved everything up to Camp 1 and remained there. Our days were uneventful but this was the first extreme altitude climb for my climbing partner Randall. He was beginning to feel the affects of altitude and his body was having some difficulty adjusting but he wasn’t the only one. Other members of our group were also feeling the effects and one had a lung infection that would keep him and his partner at base camp for a few extra days. Some of our new friends were also feeling similar effects but Stefan seemed to be adjusting well. I later learned that he had ascended a nearby mountain in the previous week to pre-acclimatize before attempting Aconcagua.

December 30, 2008-January 1, 2009 - Moving to Camp 2 (19,300 feet)

Our move up to Camp 2 was made in a similar fashion. After making an acclimatization hike up to the Aconcagua-Ameghino Col, Randall and I were ready to make a carry up to Camp 2. Unfortunately, 300 feet above camp he began having problems and had to descend while I completed a carry to Camp 2. Later he would decide that his climb was over and would return to base camp the following morning. I offered to go down with him but Randall was adamant that I should continue upward and we discussed my options. The first was to hook up with the only other climber in our group that had the skills to climb the Polish Direct route, Little Mike as we called him, but he was stuck at base camp due to his partner’s lung infection. My other options were to climb the route solo or hook up with Stefan. Later that evening my first option disappeared when we received a report that Little Mike had injured his knee carrying a load up to Camp 1 and was being evacuated from the mountain by helicopter. The following morning Randall descended and, after a brief discussion, Stefan and I agreed to climb the route together. Stefan later joined me in my tent and the following morning we moved to Camp 2. I had selected a site for our tent about 250 meters outside of camp that provided better protection from the wind and gave us easier access to the route. When Stefan arrived he was ecstatic and immediately thanked me and gave me a big hug.

January 2, 2009 – Preparing for Summit Day

After spending the night at Camp 2 we made an acclimatization hike up to 20,000 feet to mark out our approach and to get a feeling for the condition of the route. We were both well rested and climbing well but the névé was very firm which prevented us from kicking good steps. In other areas we encountered deep, loose snow slabs and hard glacial ice that forced us to climb in a switchback pattern slowing our ascent. With this information we decided we should begin our summit attempt earlier than we originally planned the following morning. It was a brilliant day with light winds and bright sunshine so we sat there for quite some time chatting about various things, eating, drinking and taking photos of the surrounding mountains. Later we descended back to camp and prepared our gear for our summit attempt.

January 3, 2009 – Summit Day

We left camp at 1:15 AM on a perfectly starry night. There was no wind to contend with but the cloudless night resulted in lower than expected temperatures. As we ascended the glacier it soon became apparent that the route was not getting any better above the high point we had reached the previous day. The climbing was slow, tiring and our feet began to get cold forcing us to stop frequently to warm them up. When we reached 20,600 feet Stefan suggested we rope up and start placing protection. As was our agreement whenever either of us felt we should protect the climb it would be done, no questions asked. We had shortened our rope to 30 meters so it would be easier to communicate should the conditions be windy and switched leads as the sun rose until we arrived at a rock band just a few hundred feet beneath the bottleneck. We were at 21,000 feet but it was already 8:00 in the morning. I belayed Stefan up to the rocks and noticed he appeared tired. When he finally arrived I told him the time and asked him what he wanted to do. Stefan said he was too exhausted to continue and that he had decided to descend.

After resting at the rock band for a brief while Stefan asked me what I wanted to do. Since I was prepared to climb the route solo I told him I would like to continue so we placed the rope in my pack in case I needed to descend through the steepest section of the climb known as the bottleneck. We rested for a few more minutes and just as I was about to leave Stefan told me he was going to continue climbing in the area for a while and then descend. As I continued upward Stefan popped out of the rocks to my right and yelled over to get my attention. We waved to each other and a few minutes later I lost sight of him as he began his descent and disappeared beneath the band of rock where we had just rested.

I continued upward where the condition of the route remained the same and I did not appear to be advancing as fast as I had hoped. For five minutes I stood motionless beneath the bottleneck calculating my rate of ascent against the time of day. I decided I would probably not make the summit before the afternoon snows came so I elected to descend. I had been on the summit two years ago with my wife so it wasn’t that important to me. I thought that if I went down now maybe Stefan and I could rest up and ascend the False Polish Traverse the following day so he could at least get to the summit.

As I turned to go down I quickly noticed the descent was going to be difficult but not something I couldn’t safely manage if I belayed myself securely with my axe. I continued down on the hard névé trying to avoid the unstable slabs of fresh powder and sheets of ice that sometimes required me to down climb on my front points with the pick of my axe firmly embedded. I returned to the 21,000 foot rock band we rested at previously and as I scouted my descent soon realized there was something lying at the base of the glacier. My initial thought was that something had blown out of Camp 2 but when I failed to see Stefan on the route below I began to worry. Slowing my descent out of concern for my safety I continued down to the next rock band at 20,400 feet where I rested. It had taken a long time to descend and my left shoulder was painful from the constant plunging and re-plunging of my axe into the hard névé. While sitting there I looked to my left and my worst fears were confirmed when I saw evidence of the accident in the snow five meters away. At this moment I lost all track of time and it seemed to take forever to descend the remaining 500 feet to where Stefan lay.

After checking Stefan and sitting with him for a while I continued down to Camp 2 to find the place deserted. All the climbers from the previous day had either left for their summit bid, were moving to higher camps or had gone down to base camp. I frantically searched through a couple of the tents used by the professional expedition outfits for a radio or satellite phone but to no avail. I was about to give up when I noticed an Aymara guide and a porter had come in to camp to assist one of their clients. I quickly filled them in on the situation and they contacted the authorities. Being exhausted from both the climb and the emotion of the situation I sat outside one of our expedition member’s tent while the two Aymara employees climbed up to Stefan to confirm his passing and take pictures for the Mendoza Police. Later that night I packed up Stefan’s gear and buried it at the side of our camp so the police could pick it up later.

January 4-6, 2009 – Descending to Base Camp

I descended the following morning to Camp 1 where I was met by one of the members of our expedition, Todd Gilligan, who had walked up from base camp with an empty pack to help me carry down my gear. I hadn’t eaten or slept for some time now and his help was greatly appreciated. When I finally arrived at base camp I was warmly greeted by members of our expedition with hugs all around. Apparently the initial report they received on the day of the accident indicated that both Stefan and I had perished in the fall but the next day park authorities corrected the report to my team members’ relief.

I spent the next two days in base camp re-telling the story and waiting for the Mendoza Police to take a statement. When the police finally arrived we gathered in one of Daniel Lopez’s tents where my new friends Daniel Placci and Dioni translated my story and helped me answer the police officer’s questions. The following morning Stefan and I were flown out to Confluencia where the police took down my formal statement and later transferred me to Penitentes so I could rejoin my group.

Reflection

At the time my decision to partner with Stefan didn’t seem unwise though some of you may see it that way. Although we had never climbed together previously, the Polish Direct route is not technically difficult and I was confident in my abilities to control the situation. We began our ascent unroped posing no increased hazard to either of us, there were no crevasses where our lives would depend on a partner’s ability to arrest a fall and effect a rescue and when we did rope up we always had at least one piece of protection between us. In the end, I do not believe our joining as partners in any way led to the accident.

What happened to Stefan during his descent was unfortunate. He was a young, vibrant person who was passionate about climbing. He always greeted fellow climbers with a smile and truly enjoyed being in the company of others. Although I only knew him for a brief period of time he will be deeply missed. My heartfelt condolences go out to Stefan’s wife, Dagmar, and his family as well as all his associates at the firm Anin Jeromin Fitilidis & Partner.

Since the accident I have received a lot of kind words and support and I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the following people for everything they did:

Images

Comments

You may be correct about Stephan turning around earlier and descending safely if he climbed solo. Unfortunately, we'll never know. Not many people know this but if you look closely at the photo I took of Stephan during our summit attempt and enlarge it to full size you'll see a climber just above and to the right of Stephan wearing a red jacket. The climber is Pierre Emeric Benteyn from France at the bottom of the glacier starting out on a solo attempt of the Polish Route. Unfortunately, Pierre disappeared that same day and has not been found.

Thank you for your kind words and, yes, the report was difficult to write. My goals were to tell everyone about how outgoing and friendly Stefan was and to describe the events and decisions we made along the way so readers could form their own opinions about what happened.

"In the end, I do not believe our joining as partners in any way led to the accident."...of course it didn't, and you were blessed to have opened up a new friendship and climbing partnership with a great guy. I trekked for a week with my dad the same month a tragic accident took him, and how that week with him has blessed my life since then, knowing I had a chance to do, together with him, what we both loved deeply. Sounds like you made Stephan's last days exactly what he would have wanted them to have been. Good on you in every way.

Oh yeah. If you had both soloed the route and nothing had gone awry, nothing would be posted here but props for having done so. I, for one, would not even venture to suggest what might have been done differently.

I was blessed to have created a new friendship with Stefan and very sorry it didn't last longer. He was a very nice person and we shared a great time together. I'm also sorry to hear about the loss of your father. My condolences to you and your family.

My emotions are definitely conflicted here. On one hand, I believe in the "go up as a team and down as a team" philosophy, and I am a little stunned you decided it was OK to leave an exhausted (or possibly sick) teammate on such a big mountain, especially after reading your comment: "I had been on the summit two years ago with my wife so it wasn’t that important to me." It seems like attempting the summit *together* the following day would have been the better choice. However, Stefan was an adult, was originally planning to go solo, and was certainly no mountaineering amateur. Plus, you have commented that another person was on the route at the same time (who was later discovered to have disappeared), so it is safe to assume you thought Stefan would be fairly safe until your return. He probably should have stayed put, waiting for you, rather than descending solo while tired. But there are so many possible "what ifs" that could be said, and I am in no position to pass judgement considering I was not there and cannot hear both sides of the story. Hindsight is 20/20, and I believe you had no ill intentions. Also, Stefan died doing something he absolutely loved. I can tell from your writing style both how much you thought of Stefan and how traumatic the experience was for you. In my opinion, it takes a lot of courage to talk about such a tragedy, especially so soon after it happened, and for that I applaud you. Thank you for sharing this story with everyone. My heart and thoughts go out to you, and Stefan's family and friends. He is missed, but memories of him live on.

Thank you for your kind words. I respect your conflicting emotions and I'm sure they're shared with many readers. Without attempting to influence your opinion I would like to clarify a few points regarding your comments above. First, while resting at 21,000' Stefan and I talked quite a bit and he was neither exhausted nor sick, assuming you were referring to AMS. He was very coherent, moving steadily at the same pace as I and decided to keep climbing in the area after we split up. Next, the other person I referred to was not on the same route as us. This climber attempted an ascent of the original Polish Route which is extremely icy in the lower section and considered by most as more dangerous than the Polish Direct route. As for Stefan staying put until I returned this is not an option on the Polish Direct route because all mountaineers descend via the False Polish Traverse back to high camp.

I appreciate the added information, especially about the Polish Route and the other climber you saw. However, I posed my assertion about Stefan's condition because of your story's statement: "Stefan said he was too exhausted to continue and that he had decided to descend." But now you are saying that he was not exhausted? Those seem to be conflicting statements. So which is true? It does not seem to add up, that's all. Again, I'm not passing judgement, as I am/was just trying to envision the situation, and I really sympathize with all the emotions you must have been going through.

I realize you're not passing judgement and, yes, Stefan "said" he was exhausted but to me he didn't look like it after we rested a few minutes. Many climbers push themselves to what they think is their limit only to find out they can go much further as I'm sure you have experienced. That's one of the unique aspects of climbing. Of the few people I've met that really had exhausted themselves they didn't talk about it. They simply plopped down in the snow with a glassy-eyed look on their face.

Generally on a face like this once it gets icy it's harder technically to downclimb than it is to climb up. As it gets steeper you have to face in going down, effectively climbing backwards. Everyone practices climbing up but how often do they train climbing down? Generally it only happens when you end up having to do it. Like at they gym or cragging, who climbs down?

I also wonder how sharp Stefan's axes and crampons were?, sometimes that can make a big difference. Also you see one alpine axe and one technical tool and you wonder if the alpine axe pick was good enough for steep ice.

I don't know how sharp Stefan's crampons were during the climb. I can tell you that mountaineers on this climb typically take one ax and one tool and the tool is only for getting through the bottleneck if required.

thank you brad for this page. its written beautiful, sincerely and touching. your words are a big honor for stefan. no matter how sad this is, what you have experienced with him, will never get lost. where ever he may be now, affection and memories are immortal, and the mountain itself as well as all the hearts of those who loved him, will remain his new home forever!

Hi Brad, During my time on Aconcagua last year, I witnessed first hand the bad consequences of 'fly by night' guiding. It's clear that you enjoy the position of expedition organizer. Amatuers on a mountain always tend to project certain expectations onto 'guides.' I hope you reflect on this as you continue to enable climbers trips to Aconcagua.

In a situation that is not simple, one simple fact stands out. A relatively inexperienced climber, who asked you for a rope on ascent, died while descending the same terrain unroped and alone. An impromptu partnership was broken with fatal results. We have all made mistakes in the mountains, often with less consequence thankfully. I hope we all have learned our lessons.

Sorry for the harsh tone, but mistakes must be recognized and learned from.

I have no problem with harsh tones, or criticism of any kind for that matter, but I do take exception to a few of your comments.

First, can you tell me if your "'fly by night' guiding" comment was in reference to the trips I've organized to Aconcagua? If so, can you tell me what gives you that impression? Is it my post on SP that states that these climbs are for "team or solo climbers wishing to attempt the mountain on their own", my web site home page that states they are an "unguided extreme altitude expedition" or my information package that states "this expedition this is NOT a guided climb"?

Next, I'm not sure what you mean by "Amatuers...project certain expectations on to guides"? The climbers on my trips know I'm not a guide and prior to joining I clearly define what logistical services I provide and the fact that they have the freedom to climb in their own style and on their own schedule.

Lastly, can you provide more information regarding your reference to Stefan as being "relatively inexperienced"?

I respect your opinion Brandon and you are certainly entitled to it but not everyone regards what happened to Stefan as a mistake.

Brandon, to the best of my knowledge there are no authorized guides on Aconcagua so there can be no unauthorized guides. If I am mistaken on this point please let me know who the authorizing body is so I can stand corrected. Furthermore, I don't see how this is relavent to the accident and why you feel you have to belabour the point. I had no authority over Stefan and I don't think either of us are in a position to comment on how Stefan viewed the situation. It's obvious that you consider our decision at the time to be a mistake and I have acknowleged your opinion on that matter.